Guilt
by Kuro-Kan-and-Shika
Summary: Ridge is feeling guilty for murdering all those people, and they might be coming back to haunt them - or is it just his guilty conscious?


Ridge stood before the large marble building that was once known as Honeydew Inc. Burnt out lights adorned with bird and wasp nests, made up the image of the late owner of Honeydew Inc., Honeydew.

He pushed open the old creaky wooden door (a humble entrance to a not so humble building) open and strolled inside. His ears were met with the tired of whirring of still running machines, with nothing to do.

He walked over to the multi-colored chute, and slowly flew up, looking at each level closely, until he reached the penthouse. The remains of an iron golem lay there in a cage, rusted and lifeless. He looked around, seeing the hot tub, and honeydew's race car bed. At the end of it was a chest laying there. It was covered in dust, and obviously hadn't been touched in a long time. He walked over to it, kneeling and opening it. Inside laid an old, dull diamond sword. Xephos' from his adventuring days. The very sword that took down Israphel.

Oh, how Xephos treasured this sword. It was a shame he was gone now.

He started to reach down into the chest to pick up the sword, but a small sound, a foot step, startled him. He pulled his hands back quickly, frantically looking around. There was no one around here for miles! Surely no one was here...

Quickly he stood, and headed towards the chute, he let himself fall down, landing on the base floor, and headed for the open door.

Wait...was the door always open? Didn't he close it upon entering? Surely...

Quickly, Ridge shook his head and left the building.

He headed towards the three small shacks, and walked in the one labeled 'brewery'. He looked at the stacked mugs on the bar, covered in dust. Lalna was a heavy drinker, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He helped run this pitiful excuse for a brewery, but he loved it.

He turned to see a lone mug sitting on the counter; it had no dust on it, and was mostly clean. Was that there before?

Ridge just shook his head; he was getting spooked to easily.

He decided to leave, seeing as how he had nothing to do there, (or that was the excuse).

He took to the skies, and flew north from there. He came across another factory. Sipco. This factory was empty, the owners deceased along with all the others. This building was quiet. All the machinery was dead and rusty; you couldn't work them if you tried. Beside that building, was a very tall building, a skyscraper.

It was truly an amazing piece of architecture, Sips and Sjin's talents died with them in that arena.

A shame.

Suddenly, Ridge swore he heard what he thought was a whisper, making him jump. He wildly looked around, and quickly tried to calm his rapidly beating heart.

He took to the skies again, it was quickly growing dark. He could hear owls hooting in the background. They more than likely belonged to Lomadia. Their owner was long gone, buried 6 feet underground - if they found her body.

Coupled with the darkness, the lone bird calls sent chills down his spine. Something wasn't right here, the air was different, unsettling even.

He felt...watched.

He felt guilty.

He'd wasted all those talents, passions and lives, all for his entertainment.

Ridge just shook his head again, and began to fly in the direction of home. He didn't want to be in the area anymore.

The next few days just got worse. He heard more whispers, more footsteps, saw more strange things. Each getting clearer and clearer. He couldn't sleep at night.

He was absolutely sure, those whose death had entertained him, were being entertained now. Finally, he decided to give them a final show, hey believed they wanted one.

They deserved one.

He picked up a laser gun, and began to put the cold barrel to his head. Something clattered to the ground nearby. Ridge took the gun away, and put it to his stomach. They wanted him to die a slow, painful death - much like they did.

"Alright..." He said to empty air, to spirits and ghouls that weren't even there. "If this is what you want...then I'll give it to you." He continued to speak to only his guilty conscience..

He cringed as he pulled the trigger, burning a hole through his stomach. He shot a few more, and then fell back on the floor.

He just lay there, listening to the infinite whispers of the wind, blood soaking the floor, soon joining the others, all too soon.


End file.
